


September 3rd, Alabama

by Julesin



Series: Runaways, or That Feel When Multiverse Theory is Confirmed Canon [13]
Category: Everyman HYBRID, MLAndersen0, Marble Hornets, Stan Frederick, Tribe Twelve
Genre: Body Horror, Dissociation, Gen, Headaches, Relapsing, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 00:53:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13019829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julesin/pseuds/Julesin
Summary: When you haven't been told anything for a while, you start to think that there's something wrong.When you're only avenue of information suddenly shuts down, not communicating with you for weeks even though they're the only one outside of your group that knows anything, you get restless.This is when bad decisions are made.





	September 3rd, Alabama

When you haven't been told anything for a while, you start to think that there's something wrong. 

When you're only avenue of information suddenly shuts down, not communicating with you for weeks even though they're the only one outside of your group that knows anything, you get restless. 

This is when bad decisions are made. 

Like deciding, while on the run from eldritch monstrosities, that it'll be a good idea to stop for several days. Like deciding to do so in one of the most highly trafficked areas for said eldritch beings. Like deciding to all go out to eat at a restaurant in said area with tons of civilians and innocent humans just ripe for the picking. 

Sadly, none of these things really registered as bad ideas for any of our heroes, except the one person that no one else really trusted. 

"I still think we shouldn't be doing this," Stan repeated for the third time that hour. Michael sighed, continuing to shove things back in his bag with an uncharacteristically small amount of care. He'd been searching it for the few bucks he'd had stashed down there, and had needed to completely upend it in order to find those thirty-two dollars. 

He ignored the paranoid creature. Truthfully, he was a bit nervous about this as well. He'd come to trust Damien, as they all kind of had, but the fact that it had been almost a month since they last contacted Tim did not give any of them confidence. Michael tried to remember that they had their own shit to deal with, but a part of him was still a little upset that they had no direction right now. No plan. No order to follow except _drive_. 

Stan continued to grumble as Michael folded and pocketed the cash. “Why can't I come again?”

"Noah told you, you look like a demon. No restaurant would admit us with you in our party. Hell, this is Alabama. You could be burned at the stake for all we know." Stan glared at the wall. "Look, we'll be back in a couple of hours. It'll be fine, we've been here for a full day already and nothing's gone wrong."

"Don't jinx it."

Michael put a hand carefully on Stan's shoulder, mindful of the sparks coming from his skin. "Just stay put and we'll be back soon, okay?"

The skeptical being sighed, blowing hair out of his face. "Yeah, yeah. Go join your boyfriend, he's waiting for you out in the hall."

_Never gonna get used to that,_ Michael thought, patting Stan's shoulder consolingly before leaving the room to find that, yes, Evan was still there. The other brunette turned his head as Michael appeared, a smile lighting up his features. 

"There you are."

Michael nodded, walking over and leaning his head against Evan's. "Stan's paranoid something's going to happen, and I think it's rubbing off on me."

"Well, if anything does, we can handle it."

Michael closed his eyes, smiling. "I hope you're right."

Evan took his hand, entwining their fingers casually as they headed for the stairs to the lobby. The seven other members of their party were waiting, lounging in chairs or standing by, looking out the windows. Noah was counting a wad of cash in his hand, making sure they had enough, but looked up when Vince reported, "They're here."

"Hey, you made it." Noah turned to look at their group. "Do we have everybody?"

Vince counted quickly, then nodded, affirmative. They all stood, brushing themselves off and making sure they all looked moderately presentable, then headed for the door. Noah took Evan's other hand in his, ignoring the sly expression the shorter man gave him. He and Michael exchanged looks over Evan's head, and Michael giggled at Noah's amusing faces, making him grin back. 

"Vinnie, are they looking at each other over me?" Evan queried. 

"Yes."

"Goddamnit, you two." Laughing was the only response. 

They headed out into the street, enjoying the end of summer heat that still lingered in the air. Their massive road trip had begun around the beginning of the summer, but now it was almost September, and it was felt. The warmth was leeching away slowly, chilling breezes replacing it. Leaves on trees lining the sidewalk were already starting to change colors, filling the air with golds and oranges and bright reds. It was starting to get dark earlier as well, as they were getting closer to winter, but the nine of them didn't mind. They were used to darkness, and even if they didn't enjoy it, it was easier to deal with when they were all together. 

The wait time at the restaurant was about twenty minutes, so they hung out outside for that time, wandering up and down the street and looking in at shops they hadn't been able to inspect before. The night previous, they had simply gotten their hotel rooms, eaten food they had stashed, then went to bed, and most of the day had been spent getting more sleep than they'd had in a long time. Exploring now, they discovered a quaint little antiques shop, a couple of family owned businesses with various wares, and a gun store that they decided not to go in to. 

Noah got the text signifying their table was ready, and they headed back to the restaurant quickly, eager to eat some proper food and get out of the rapidly darkening streets. They were directed to their seats, and though they got some odd looks (like always), it seemed like the evening was going to be uneventful. 

But of course, because the universe just hated them, it wasn't meant to be. 

Halfway through their meal, in amongst joking and flirting and enjoying themselves, Michael looked up from his plate to meet the eyes of another patron. He was suddenly very aware that they weren't the only one looking at their table; one glance around the restaurant showed that there were many, many eyes on the nine of them. Those eyes were unnerving, suddenly dead where they had been lively, and fear shot down his spine. 

"Evan," he mumbled, reaching over to pat the other man's arm urgently. When he turned, Michael gestured at the room. "Look around."

Evan's expression morphed through several emotions before arriving at fear as he followed the instruction, and after meeting Michael's eyes one more time, he reached over to notify Vinnie. 

Soon they were all aware of the eyes on them, as well as the fact that not everyone in the restaurant were like that. There were humans, innocent civilians, in amongst the dead stares, and they were starting to notice it as well. Michael saw people looking around, waving hands in front of the faces of their friends, trying to get the attention of waiters that didn't respond at all, and realized that this was a very dangerous situation.

"We gotta get outta here," Noah muttered angrily. 

"We can't," Jessica hissed. "If we get up, the Dogs will instantly mobilize, and the normal people could get hurt."

"So what do you suggest?"

"Just stay calm, we'll figure this out. We have to be careful."

As easy as Jessica made it sound, it really wasn't. They were surrounded by danger on all sides, and it was really only a matter of time before they were attacked. 

Unfortunately, their decision was made for them when Tim cried out, head held in his hands. 

"Fuck, what the hell-" He hissed in pain, and moments later, Brian winced as well before putting a hand to his own head. Alex and Jay tried to comfort, then succumbed to similar sudden migraines. 

"Shit," Jessica hissed. "We have to go now."

"I hear static. I hear static," Noah responded, voice rising with panic. 

Evan twitched suddenly, choking on nothing and reaching out a hand to claw at Vince's arm. Vin nodded, swallowing as his head twitched back and forth. "I feel it. Jess, we gotta go, Evan and I are gonna relapse if we stay any longer."

Taking a deep breath, Jessica nodded, then looked to Michael and Noah, the only other two who seemed to not be breaking down, before standing abruptly. 

All hell broke loose. 

Dogs converged, and as the group all leapt from their chairs, the creatures attacked, clawing and gnashing their inhuman teeth. Evan pulled a knife from a sheath he'd hung on his belt and sliced one on the arm, and the yowl of pain it let out was high pitched and unpleasant. One lurched for Michael, but before he could do anything, Noah grabbed him by the arm, pulling him out of the way and dashing for the restaurant doors. 

In amongst screams and shouts of pain, the two broke out into the cool night air, and Michael found himself somewhere else. 

Sort of. 

He could see, he could hear what was happening, but muffled, like through a pair of headphones. And he couldn't control his body anymore. 

Patrick wrenched his arm out of Noah's grip, turning back to watch the rest of them tumble out of the doors. Tim, Alex, Brian and Jay all looked on the verge of collapse, their faces contorted in pain, and Jessica seemed to be getting there as well. Evan slashed at a Dog, protecting Vince as he raced out into the street, then followed, his eyes wild and shaking. Dogs poured out after them, faces ravenous with hunger, and they all took off down the street, unsure of where to go but needing to get anywhere possibly safe.

The Tall Man's Dogs were fast, and soon they were right on the group's tail. Static echoed in Patrick's ears, his vision blurring, and Tim cried out in pain from nearby as he stumbled, still clutching his head. Sickening coughs came from all five members of the Marble Hornets crew. Evan clung hard to Vince's arm, lips moving rapidly in silence while the knuckles of his other hand turned white around the blade he carried. They were breaking, collapsing under the pressure, and it was only a matter of time before they fell victim to the gnashing teeth that were now inches behind them. Like a vision fulfilled, Jessica cried out, her ankle caught by reaching claws, and Patrick fell back, elbowing the Dog in the gut as hard as he could and wishing he had an axe. Jessica clambered back to her feet, but the creature bounced back faster than he'd expected, raking claws across his chest, and Michael cried out in pain at the same time as Patrick, their body stumbling back as blood dripped down and spattered the pavement. _At least Jessica got away,_ echoed to Michael through their mind, and he desperately wished he had a voice, could scream for Patrick to run as several Dogs converged on him, eyes blank and mouths snarling-

There was a deafening shot, and then silence. 

The Dog closest to Patrick hit the pavement, its head splattered ten feet away. The other creatures skidded to a halt, eyes on their fellow monster, then slowly turned their heads the other direction. It seemed like the whole world had stopped, humans and Dogs staring at the three figures standing in the dimly lit street. 

Seth Wilson, grin wide and deadly, cocked his shotgun. "Need some help?"

Everything started again. From Seth's right, Amy Walters took aim, her two pistols smoking after she fired four shots, and two Dogs went down under the expertly aimed bullets. Sarah Reid, from his left, took a running leap and swung her spiked bat down onto the head of another creature, slamming it to the pavement. She lifted it up by the scruff of its shirt, then swung the bat into its stomach, sending it flying. Seth fired two more shots in quick succession, taking another head off and blowing out a chest. Amy fired right between a Dog's eyes and kicked it to the ground, firing several more shots before going to reload. 

The pavement was splattered with blood and body parts and shell casings, the three saviors wreaking havoc across the army of monsters, and Patrick and the rest only watched in awe and horror as their attackers dwindled in number. 

Seth shot a Dog to the ground, and Sarah stepped forward, placing a steel-toed boot on the creature's chest before shouting, "Batter up!" and swinging. The monster's head went flying, ripped clean off by her terrifying weapon, and the remaining Dogs seemed to realize that what they were fighting was a lost cause. 

The street rapidly emptied, the monsters crawling into dark holes and sinking into the shadows, and soon it was just twelve very bloody humans standing in the dark roadway, street lights the only illumination besides the sliver of a moon that hung in the sky. 

Silence, quiet at last. It reigned over the scene, the battlefield that remained after the destruction. Patrick thought they were beautiful, these three human beings he'd only seen before on a screen, with blood on their clothes and weapons in their hands. Michael couldn't help but agree. 

Eventually, Amy hurried forwards, bending down and offering Alex a hand. He stared up from his spot on the ground, mouth hung open and face awed, but didn't move. After a moment, she cleared her throat. "Alex?"

The first word spoken since the battle ended, and the spell was broken. He took her hand, and everyone else struggled to their feet, wiping blood from their faces and arms. Noah ran to Patrick, hands gripping his shoulders as he looked him up and down, then going to his face. "Are you okay?"

Patrick nodded wordlessly, still trying to figure out what exactly had happened as dull pain throbbed through the slash marks on his chest. Sarah walked over to Brian, offering a hand as he stumbled to his feet, and he stared at it for a moment before his eyes moved to her face, where a smirk shone through the blood and exhaustion. 

Patrick's eyes raked over everyone else, noting Jay helping Tim to his feet, before they came to a stop on Vince and Evan. The latter was out cold in the former's arms. Patrick pulled away from Noah and stumbled towards them, kneeling by Vinnie. 

"Wh-what happened?"

"He relapsed harder than me, I think," Vince mumbled, eyes glassy as he met Patrick's eyes. "He'll be okay. I hope."

Patrick swallowed and gazed down at Evan, who was paler than usual, his head twitching almost imperceptibly. A hand on Pat's shoulder startled him, and Noah looked down at him with worry. 

"Where the hell did you come from?"

Seth looked moderately taken aback at Brian's accusatory tone, and cleared his throat while rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. "Well, uh, see-"

"And where did these come from?" Brian took the strawberry blonde's arms, looking over the many, many Operator symbols that ran up and down the skin. 

"I dunno. They were just there when we showed up. Can't get 'em off, either." Seth took one of his arms back gently, pushing his glasses back up his nose. "I'm, uh, glad to see you, too."

Brian met his eyes again, staring for a moment before lunging forward, wrapping his arms around Seth's neck desperately and almost throwing the other man off balance.

"Woah! Uh, heh. Yeah. I missed you, too, Bri."

Sarah watched with amusement, ignoring Seth's _help me_ look when Brian refused to let go. Tim stumbled over, patting Brian's shoulder softly to get him to release his captive. 

Patrick hauled himself upright, wincing as the skin stretched around his wounds. Amy stepped back from where she'd been murmuring with Alex, met Jessica's eyes, smiled, then looked to the rest of their group. "We should go back to whatever hotel you guys are staying at before doing introductions and storytelling and such. These bodies will be gone in a few hours, but in the meantime we should really get out of here before any police those civilians may have called show up." She holstered her pistols and stepped back for someone to lead the way. 

"We can't walk in there like this," Sarah argued, gesturing to her bloody clothing. "Come on, Ames. You know that. Follow me." She shouldered her bat and set off down the road, so self-assured that everyone just followed without argument. 

Vince had some trouble, not sure how to carry Evan with them, when the latter gasped back into consciousness, shaking and looking around before closing his eyes to try and focus. He stood, unsteady on his feet, but refused help as he got his bearings. Patrick stayed by him regardless. 

The high school grounds were dark, but they still slowed and checked around to make sure they were alone. The sounds of the sprinklers on the lawn were all they could hear, so Sarah continued onto the grass, though they still all felt a bit out in the open. Those sprinklers were what they were going for, they found, as Sarah walked right up to one and stepped into the spray. She quickly rinsed herself and her clothes as best she could, even taking her shirt off in order to get every side (everyone but the girls, Seth, and Brian turned respectfully away, though Michael doubted she cared). Everyone else quickly followed her example, though a couple of them were already pretty clean. Alex, Jay, Tim and Noah seemed pretty reluctant to get in the water, and they seemed pretty blood-free, but when Patrick grabbed Noah's wrist and pulled him in it didn't really matter anymore. They might as well all be sopping wet. It'd be easier to explain. 

Once they were all thoroughly soaked, Jessica lead the way back to the hotel, and when they entered the double doors they got some interesting looks. The staff in particular glared heatedly at them as they dripped cold water all over the floors, but none of them really cared, though Jay did apologize quietly to one staff member, who just rolled their eyes. 

They headed up to their rooms quickly. Three rooms was their usual recently, even though they had yet another member in Stan. The four Hornets boys kept their room, but Vincent and Evan had combined with Noah and Jessica. Stan and Michael took the last one.

Speaking of Michael, he felt Patrick shiver, the pain starting to get to their body. He needed medical attention, but there was no way they'd get into a hospital without some questions being asked that they could not answer. They could always say it was a dog (hah!) or something, but the slashes were too large, too precise for something like that. They would have to deal with it themselves. 

Patrick stumbled into his and Stan's room, breath shaking as his vision tumbled. Stan stood abruptly from his perch on the bed, seeming unusually calm as he led Patrick into the bathroom to strip him and wash the wounds. Michael prayed that Patrick would stay awake when Stan left briefly to grab bandages from his bag, and Patrick smiled sarcastically and muttered, "Nah, I'm good, Mikey," into the empty room. It was odd for him to acknowledge Michael's existence like that; Michael hadn't even been sure if Patrick could hear his thoughts. 

_Let me back in control,_ give yourself a break. 

"Nnnope." He popped the 'p' dramatically. "This is a lot of pain, and I know you can feel it, but it's a helluva lot worse out here. Just chill in there for a bit."

Michael fell silent as Stan returned. 

He dressed Patrick's wounds quickly, hands unusually steady as he made sure the bandages would cover everything, then sat back to look the man in the eyes. 

"So? What happened? You were attacked, I assume."

Patrick nodded a little unsteadily. "Dogs, right in the middle of dinner," he muttered back. "And I was really likin' that ravioli, too."

Stan sighed, the cracks in his skin flashing violet for a brief moment. "I figured as much. I could feel something was wrong, but I didn't come to help because..." He looked away, brows drawing together in discomfort. 

"Don't worry about it," Patrick responded, waving a hand lazily. "We handled it. Well, they did, at least. The three warriors who saved us." He said that last part in a nasally and dramatic tone, and Stan huffed out a confused laugh. 

"Who?"

Patrick stood awkwardly, a little wobbly, then headed for the door. "They're probably all in the other room or something," he called back. "Come on. Oh, and..." He stopped Stan just outside the bathroom, scratching the back of his head uncomfortably. "Thanks for doing this." He gestured at himself. "And for not freaking out about, well..." He gestured to the many, many other scars that littered the body, and Michael winced internally. 

Stan shrugged. "We all have scars. Some more than others, and some more external than others, but they're still scars. It's not a big deal."

Patrick nodded stiffly, then grabbed another sweatshirt to slip on before leading the way through the other two rooms. 

Everyone was gathered in the Hornets boys's room, which had unofficially become their official meeting room over time. Seth, Sarah and Amy had done their best to be discreet about the fact that they had weapons when they entered the hotel, but now they brandished them openly, Seth's shotgun lying across his lap while Sarah leaned on her bat. 

No one had begun to dry yet, so they were also dripping water all over the carpet. 

Stan's eyes went wide. "Well, those are three people I didn't expect to see."

"Yeah, no kiddin'," Noah replied, eyeing them suspiciously. 

As Patrick took a seat next to Noah on the bed and Stan settled on the floor, Amy sat forward, leaning her elbows on her knees. "Now that everybody's here, we can talk. I guess we should start by talking about us three, and how we're here."

"Didn't you say they wouldn't be coming with us?" Tim's question was directed at Alex, who shrugged. 

"I mean, like I said, I don't know how I knew it was going to happen, I just did. Whatever was giving me that information could definitely have been unreliable."

"We showed up about the same time you all did," Amy continued. "We were here, in Alabama, but in an area none of us recognized. And because none of us had a car, we had no way of getting to you. We were also told not to."

"Damien?" Tim queried. Amy nodded. 

"They contacted us almost immediately," Seth took over. "Told us where we were and what had happened, and that you were all safe. They also told us that we shouldn't interfere, that we would be necessary for your survival at a later time, but to stay away for now. I assume they were talking about this."

"We've been following you for a couple of days," Amy confessed. "Damien showed up about two days ago, told us that you were in danger. We'd been following their instructions for a while, and, unsurprisingly, were nearby."

"Where'd you guys get all this shit?" Brian wondered, peering at Seth's shotgun with awe and concern. 

"This baby," the other man cooed with a smirk, "I got at the gun store in town yesterday. Before I just had a pistol, but I saw this sweet thing and had to grab her."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "I made this thing months ago." She gestured to her bat. "I've gotten almost completely used to its weight. Amy got her pistols about a month back." The blond smiled shyly, looking down at her weapons. 

"But...why?"

All three of them glanced up at Jay, who had a complicated look on his face. 

"Why have you suddenly become...warriors, fighting the apocalypse, or whatever?"

Seth's face darkened, and the three of them looked down at the shitty hotel carpet. "We had to. Days after we arrived in Alabama we were attacked by the Operator's Dogs and had to literally run for our lives. It was only a matter of time before we realized we needed weapons."

"It was almost nonstop," Amy murmured. "They barely left us alone."

"But..." Noah hesitated. "We've mostly been ignored as long as we kept moving."

Sarah shrugged, unconcerned. "I guess we were more of a target."

"It was me," Seth confessed. "I was the Operator's main puppet for a lot of...our story. I guess he wanted me back pretty bad."

"Wait, what?" Evan held up a hand. "You three were barely on camera, how were you his main puppet?"

"Who do you think was behind all those _Totheark_ videos?" Sarah asked scathingly. "They didn't show up out of thin air. Some of them were made by Brian or Tim, but most of them were this guy." She jabbed a thumb in Seth's direction. 

Brian and Tim looked at the floor, tense. Sore spot. 

"I guess that makes sense," Vince murmured. 

Michael's head was spinning. Literally, he felt like he was turning over and over. Patrick rubbed his face wearily.

"It doesn't matter," Seth cut in quickly. "What matters is that we're here now, and you guys need to get out of here tomorrow. You need to get some sleep, we'll keep watch and make sure nothing goes wrong. Okay?"

"Hold on a sec," Stan interrupted, drawing everyone's attention. "Damien told you we would be in trouble?" At the three's nods, his expression soured. "Doesn't that mean they knew we would stay here, and didn't warn us or tell us not to? Or even try to help in any way? And they had no reason not to?"

Silence fell. Patrick swallowed, and Michael felt discomfort roll through him in waves. The others all looked similarly perturbed, staring at the floor or ringing their hands. 

Eventually, Tim spoke up. "Damien told me, when we first started this, that they would be keeping certain things from us, but that if they did it was for our own good."

"For our own good, my ass!" Noah exploded. "Patrick and Michael were almost killed! There's no excuse for that."

The gashes across Patrick's chest throbbed again, as if to prove a point. 

"Look," the tired other man implored. "All I'm saying is that there's more here than we understand. There always has been. They did seem very harried the last time they contacted us."

"That was two months ago."

Tim fell silent again, looking away. 

"We're all tired, and we need rest," Amy soothed, moving her hands in a placating gesture. "How about we sleep on it?"

They all nodded uneasily. 

"I'll take the second room. Seth, you okay with staying here?"

He nodded, shooting Brian a tired smile. 

"I'll take weirdo and the double, then," Sarah added, gesturing to Stan and Patrick. Michael felt the offense, but thought, _Don't take it personally,_ and that calmed Patrick down. Stan just rolled his eyes, though the air in the room did seem to drop a couple of degrees.

They split off into their separate rooms, doors closing and lights being turned off moments later. Patrick thumped down onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling as the room went dark. He turned his head to watch Sarah as she pulled a chair over to the window and sat down, bat propped in front of her and eyes out at the night, then glanced towards his other side to peer at Stan, who had gone into power-save mode. 

Darkness reigned in as Patrick closed their eyes, and then he was next to Michael, knees held close to his chest as the two floated in the mind space. He grumbled quietly. 

_Thank you,_ Michael murmured, coming closer and leaning his projected forehead on Patrick's. 

_Yeah, yeah._

_No, I mean it. I'm glad you took control back there, I was too scared to think. You saved us, and you saved Jessica._

Patrick smiled ruefully. _And almost got us killed in the process._

_But you didn't. You knew better than me what to do._

His smile softened. _Well, I also have more fighting experience than you. I'm sorry I didn't ask first, though._

_If you had, we would probably be dead. Sometimes you just gotta act, and worry about the consequences later._

He closed his eyes. _I'm just glad I got us out of there intact. I'm glad Noah got you out of the building._

Michael nodded. The two floated freely for several more moments, barely touching, before sleep took the body, and they fell into darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> DIDNT EXPECT THAT DID YOU???  
> I indiscriminately love every single Marble Hornets character ever  
> Yes even the ones who got like two minutes of screen time each  
> I love them all  
> Also I would date Amy  
> Also also yes I _do_ believe that Seth was Totheark and nothing can tear that headcanon away from me


End file.
